


The Lady That Wasn't - (Holiday Prince Hal)

by MarvelousMind



Category: Henry IV Part 1 - Shakespeare, The Hollow Crown (2012), Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Holidays, Mystery, The Hollow Crown: Henry V, tom hiddleston - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 20:03:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2824463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarvelousMind/pseuds/MarvelousMind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Young Hal meets a lady who isn't. Little does he know this mysterious 'ghost' will intrigue him until he encounters her again years later, and then haunt him for years to come. Her secrets could incite wars, their fate will decide empires.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lady That Wasn't - (Holiday Prince Hal)

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to stay as close to the facts as possible, but since this is mostly based on Henry IV and Henry V and Shakespeare’s version of events are… well… Shakespeare’s version, it is not historically accurate (though possible) it takes place before and after Bolingbroke’s banishment. As the man himself says “for their sake, In your fair minds let this acceptance take”.

Hal was up to mischief, as usual, and as usual none of the other children were game for it. There was one possibility though, a quiet girl with flashing eyes that held herself at a distance from the rest and was regarded with nervous glances. She seemed to be about his own age and a native of Sheen manor, but when Hal had asked another child about her, he was given a cryptic response “Gwen’s just a ghost”.

He was intrigued.

He’d sated himself with marzipan and spice cakes, the mummers had finished performing St. George and the Dragon, and he’d had about all of the King’s feast he could stand. Watching Richard alternately simper and insult while he played at politics with the other lords, including Hal’s own father, had a way of turning his stomach and spoiling his appetite for carols and games. He wanted to find some form of entertainment beyond the great hall.

One of the other children, a stableman’s son, mentioned that one of the horses was going to foal tonight. Hal wanted to see it, but the other children begged off, saying that it was one of the King’s favorite horses and the stable master would have their ears if they somehow upset the event.

Gwen spoke up for the first time with soft hesitancy “I know how to get in, without being seen”.

Silence greeted the admission as the other children acknowledged her statement with fearful eyes. One of them broke the silence by loudly announcing he was starting another game of ball and they’d all been relieved to have a reason to follow him out into the cold courtyard.

Gwen suddenly looked like she regretted saying anything. Hal smiled encouragingly and gestured for her to lead the way. She seemed to waffle a moment, before that fire came back to her eyes and she set her chin determinedly, then set off down the corridor.

They kept a stately pace until they were in unoccupied corridors, and then she scurried along on silent feet. Hal was enjoying the challenge of keeping up with her as they cut through empty rooms and slipped through hidden servant doors. Even areas that should have been off limits to all but nobility, she could traverse like the back of her hand. Finally they reached an unused room with an open window looking over the stable roof.

Gwen sat on the ledge and looked back at him, a challenging smile spreading over her face, revealing a pair of enchanting dimples before she fell backwards and dropped from sight. Hal’s stomach lurched and he dove forward to catch her, but his fingers closed on empty air. He hesitated to look down until he heard her small giggle echo up to him.

She was lying in a pile of hay in the hayloft of the stable, visible through a hole in the roof, just big enough to jump through. Which she must have done many times to be able to navigate it with such impunity. She called up “Aim for the large pile on the left and tuck your head in”

Hal did as he was told, his head narrowly missing the shingles and a broken board nearly catching his side that would have caused him grievous injury if she hadn’t told him what to aim for. He landed in the scratchy straw and the smell of horses and oiled leather enveloped him.

Grinning, he looked around for Gwen and just caught sight of the edge of her skirts as she disappeared behind another pile of hay. He hurried after her and her face quickly reappeared, her finger pressed urgently to her lips. After that he tried to follow her as quietly as possible, but still felt like a thundering oaf in comparison to her stealth.

She reached a hole, just large enough to put his foot through, and knelt down beside the watery beam of light it admitted. Hal joined her to find a large mare lying in the stall below, stable boys tip toed around, while the stable master kept watch over the mare.

After a few minutes of not much happening, Hal started to contemplate Gwen again. She was surprisingly pretty, he hadn’t thought much about girls being pretty before and told himself it was her fine bone structure that he was evaluating in an effort to unravel her mystery. She didn’t wear homespun like some of the other children, her dress was made from fine clothe, though it was simply cut and lacked ornamentation, but she treated it with the carelessness of the wealthy. 

“Who are your parents Gwen?” Hal whispered

She repeated her earlier gesture, finger to lips and Hal went back to watching the horse in companionable silence until she whispered “You’re Bolingbroke’s son, heir of Lancaster, aren’t you?”

Hal nodded reluctantly and then, hoping to impress her, he reached for her hand and kissed the back of it. She snatched it away as if he’d burned her “I’m not a lady!” the hissed denial was overly harsh and had a ring of falsehood to it. Below them the mare stirred, distracting them before she quieted again.

The cramped position and lack of activity had Hal leaning back against the hay while he contemplated the girl again. He began making whispered guesses as to who her parents might be. Each suggestion was greeted with a face, sometimes a humorous smile, sometimes a grimace, but always with a frustrating shake of the head.

Eventually she decided to redirect him. She mimicked his sprawling posture and sat back against the hay to contemplate him and he laughed quietly.

There was another brief peek of dimple before she became pensive again “Do you know how to use a sword yet?”

The question was unexpected, particularly from a girl “I know a bit”.

“Can you show me?” She asked the question casually, not caring in the slightest that it was improper but also with a bit of skepticism in her tone, as if she doubted he really knew any swordsmanship.

“What… teach you?” It would certainly be frowned upon, which was tempting in Hal’s book, but he also suspected he was being goaded, which he took issue with. He scowled at her, trying out what he hoped was an intimidating look while he contemplated her and considered.

She’d nodded shyly in answer, eyes guileless until met with his frown, then shadowing as if she expected a reprisal and regretted asking. Satisfied that he had her measure, his frown gave way to a bright grin as he hopped to his feet and reached out to pull her to hers too.

She hesitated a moment, confusion contorting her features while she tried to adjust to the sudden change in him. Then she recognized his trick for what it was, a device for throwing others off guard while he evaluated them. The corner of her mouth tugged back disapprovingly as she committed this ruse of his to memory and allowed him to help her up.

Trying to step as lightly as possible they located an old stick and her impromptu lesson began, Hal enjoying the mock role of tutor. She was a quick study and he soon found himself as challenged to keep their play quiet as he was to return her admirable comebacks to his teasing banter. They had to keep pausing to restrain their giggles.

It was during one of these pauses they noticed movement stirring below, and then watched in rapt silence as the foal was birthed without incident, a new little life dashing into existence before their very eyes.

He was deemed a beautiful roan specimen by the men around him, and lurched onto spindly legs within a few minutes, toddling around the stall while the children above tried to contain more joyous giggles at his sweetly awkward antics.

Eventually, when all was settled below, they found themselves without distraction and settled into conversation, reluctant to return to the tediously wearisomeness formalities of the feast within.

Eventually their footsteps were noticed while they were attempting a Christmas carol dance and they fled the hayloft as heavy footsteps headed their way. Gwen bolted out of a hidden trapdoor with Hal hot on her heels and she clambered down a rickety ladder as well as the King’s monkey could.  Raised voices pursued them as they raced across the yard in search of the other children, now nowhere to be found, and Hal was surprised at the lateness of the hour. He would have his ears boxed for sure.

They slipped inside the manor and Hal watched in bewilderment as Gwen’s demeanor changed. She dusted herself off and adopted the well-mannered de rigueur of a lady, but without the ostentatious bearing. Her smile was an empty formality, her eyes cast to the floor, she was polite yet inconspicuous and quick to move out of the path of others. In fact the further they walked into the manor, and the more people they encountered, the more she resembled the ghost she’d been called.

At a loss as he watched the kindred spirit of his delightful cohort suddenly extinguish, he fought the urge to grab her hand and run away to rekindle it. Instead he asked “will I see you tomorrow?”

Gwen was distracted, eyes darting in nervous search among the people surrounding them and her answer was sadly reluctant “No, I’m off for Wales tomorrow. My uncle says I’m to have a proper father”. Her eyes flew wide, realizing she’d just committed some sacred transgression and she quickly pecked an unexpected kiss on Hal’s cheek before she fled.

It was Hal’s turn to be wide eyed, and he held his cheek in reverent surprise as he watched her go, wondering if he’d ever see her again.

But see her again, he did. _Years later…_

It was another Christmas feast, this time at his great Uncle’s castle in Langley. He’d been seated beside a Lady introduced to him as Gwenllian and had greeted her poorly, hardly looking at her, his attention claimed by the apprehensive face his uncle was directing at him just then.

Distracted by the other diners, he hadn’t given her a second thought, until he moved to pass a dish her way and offhandedly inquired “My Lady?”

“I’m not a lady”. The peculiar response grabbed his attention and he turned to find her smirking expectantly at him. Something about the odd statement and the twinkle in her eye was familiar and she waited while he jogged his memory.

She smiled, bringing out her lovely dimples, and the realization came to him suddenly “Gwen?”

An impish laugh proclaimed she was thoroughly enjoying his consternation and her brows rose teasingly over eyes bright with good-humor as she returned “Monmouth”.

The promise of beauty she’d carried in childhood had bloomed into fulfillment and he took her in for another moment, prompting another laugh from her.

It won an easy smile from him and his blue eyes twinkled as he raised a brow and looked her over “Wales agreed with you my lady”.

Her humor faded a bit and a wistful look replaced it “Aye, it did”. Then she returned her gaze to him and deadpanned “Though it does not seem to agree with you, my Lord. The duties you’ve inherited since I saw you last seem to have you distinctly ill at ease, or so the rumors say”.

He leaned back and studied her intently while a boy filled their wine cups. “Do you always listen to idle gossip?”

She reached for her cup, unruffled by his scrutiny “In truth, my lord, have a particular abhorrence for it but I must admit rumors do occasionally have root in merit, and I remember a little boy with as much contempt for decorum as I had…” she peeked over the rim of the cup and smiled knowingly “and as great an appetite for mischief”.

Hal smiled appreciatively at the charge while he speared his food “It’s my understanding Barbary is here tonight as well, so we are all of us reunited this evening”.

Her eyes flicked to the doors for a moment while she remembered the foal they’d watched come into the world. They flicked back to him, flashing in the firelight, and he recalled how much he’d missed that fire in her eyes, how he’d mourned it’s going when she’d carefully banked it at their last parting.

He also recalled the cryptic reason she’d given for that parting “Did you find what you were looking for in Wales?”

She stiffened for an instant at his words until she saw his intimidating scowl and rolled her eyes in response “Really Monmouth, I caught the gist of that ploy even as children”.

He grinned hugely in response and tipped his head in capitulation “Well, you were an exceptional child”. His head came up and his eyes searched hers, squinting drily as he looked her over again “This fiery woman of Wales however, is proving more than a match for little ghostly Gwen of Sheen manor. How came that to be?”

She answered with fondness and a hint of pride “Because I was no longer treated as a child that is neither seen and nor heard, or a lady whose sole worth is in her docile manner, dowry… or hips”.

Hal lifted an eyebrow in anticipation, wordlessly prompting her to elaborate and she grudgingly obliged him “I was allowed great freedom there, my father” this last word was marked and she paused significantly “was generous and doting.” She warmed to her subject and continued unprompted “He placed great value on me and granted me an unconventional education for a daughter, as long as my arguments for such were sound. Though my temperament and inclinations deviated from my siblings, he valued my intelligence and spirit as highly as my sister’s chaste passions for romance and gift for song”.

He sensed her reluctance to name her father, and was loath to ask outright despite his curiosity. “You were a very solitary child when I saw you last, how many siblings have you?”

She kept her features free of expression, other than the slight smirk at the corner of her mouth that was fighting for release, and returned a bit cockily “Some fourteen, my lord”.

Hal’s eyebrows shot up and he cleared his throat “We must commend your father on his virility. A trait it would seem he passed on to his daughter”. She smirked at the implication before he added “How fairs his lady wife? It seems she’s born quite the burden”.

Gwen spoke delicately now “Though my father’s lady wife has born him ten heirs, I am a ‘burden’ not counted among them”.

Suddenly her insistence that she was not a lady, so at odds with her appearance and demeanor, made sense. Bastardy was not regarded so harshly in Wales as it was in England. Legitimacy had once been as simple as a father’s acknowledgment or denial before they’d adopted England’s laws on wedlock concerning succession.  

An awkward moment passed while she waited for his reaction, and he tried to stow the sudden sense of disappointment that unexpectedly filled him at her revelation. He focused instead on what she hadn’t said. She’d been more open about admitting this blight of her birth than she had been about divulging her father’s identity. Hal was determined to poke at the matter like a sore tooth. “What brings you to Langley? Is the rest of your family here for the holiday?”

Aside from the topic of her father’s name,  she’d born his curiosity with remarkable frankness, but here she guarded herself, her tone cooling to complete neutrality “Regretfully, my family will not be sharing my company any longer. The Duke of York has been kind enough to take an interest in the finer points of my education from here on”.

The look on his great uncle’s face when Hal was seated next to Gwen came back to him and he turned to find his uncle was stealing nervous glances at them. The woman seated beside Hal now intrigued him more than ever.

He returned his consideration to her and found she’d closed herself off, focusing on her food rather than any further interest in conversation, and Hal was suddenly desperate to rekindle their engaging exchange.  Determined to let her mysteries drop , he cleared his throat and focused on drawing her out again. “I suspect he has set himself an easy task. Have you traveled much since you found your beloved Wales?”

He smirked encouragingly, the question only intended to draw their conversation away from clearly touchy topics but it served to further stiffen her posture to severity and the tables turned on him as he found himself the subject of her intense scrutiny.  She seemed satisfied with what she saw there and opened her mouth to answer him, but her eyes slid over to his uncle and she hesitated.

At this curious behavior, Hal lowered his voice soothingly and lifted his hands with his fingers splayed wide in a gesture of fervent reassurance “My lady, I assure you, I will keep your words in strictest confidence. I have no scheme but an earnest desire for your friendship”.

Her eyes flicked back to his disarmingly sincere gaze and she swallowed hard, as if she knew she was going to regret saying anything but felt compelled to confess it to him “I’ve spent the last few months in France” she swallowed again and suddenly remembered her food, quickly returning her attention to it with renewed vigor.  

New questions sprang into his mind, but he decided to leave it in peace and held his tongue for a few minutes while he sought a subject that wouldn’t provoke more prickly conversation. She surprised him by stating their conundrum in a defeated tone “So this evening you’ve gone from lordling to prince in my esteem and I’ve gone from lady to bastard in yours…” a long uncomfortable silence followed.

Hal suddenly made a grab for her hand and pulled her to her feet as he’d done years ago. He ignored the concerned glances from his uncle and tugged Gwen along behind him, keeping his pace somewhat dignified, trying not to draw undue attention as they subtly fled the hall, but he broke into a run once they reached the corridors. Her laughter was worth the tongue lashing he was sure to receive from his father later.

It wasn’t so easy to navigate the corridors as it had been on their last madcap run through a manor. They were still nimble, but considerably larger and drew more attention; Gwen’s dress hindered her especially. After a few glances back at her as they sprinted along, Hal realized an unfamiliar knight was pursuing them. “Is he with you?”

Gwen didn’t even need to turn around “Yes, a stone around my neck, all eyes and ears and placed there at my uncle’s bidding”.

Hal picked up his pace until they rounded a corner, then he dashed behind a tapestry that seemed to be flush with the wall but concealed a small alcove, a patchwork of bricks at the back hinting it was once a doorway to a sealed off room.  He tugged Gwen in so quickly she crashed into his chest as he threw his arms around her and drew her in with him as far as he could, pressing her against him as he shrunk back into the stonework so that her gown didn’t deform the lay of the tapestry and give them away.

They stood in silence, trying to control their heavy breathing, his panting exhales warm on her neck as they waited for the man’s footsteps to pass. Firm muscle contoured the warm leather under her hands with the rise and fall of his chest. Her breasts pressed into him with every gasping inhale of her own and the alluring smell of him infused the air around her as she drew it in.

She risked a peak up at his too close face and found him grinning hugely in anticipation while he caught his breath. His delight made a breathy giggle escape her and his chest rumbled with suppressed laughter. A moment later the knight’s footsteps rang out against the stone floors. Hal’s arms tightened further around her and they held their breath as the man stalked past their hiding place. He paused a moment to get his bearings and Gwen’s lungs burned for air.

Some idea must have occurred to him and he finally hastened off, prompting more gasping and relieved laughter from them. “We seem to have a knack for hiding, my lady”.

She grinned back at him coyly “We seem to have a knack for pursuit, my lord”. His teeth slightly parted as he laughed breathily again and his eyes seemed to drink her in while their breathing slowed. He slid a finger over her cheek to push back a lock of hair that their romp had dislodged, the tenderness in his eyes stealing the breath she’d only just regained. He was reluctant to release her until he heard a voice in the hallway.

It was a brash and slightly nasal voice and rang through the corridor with a pronounced commoner’s accent “Would his majesty be interested in having the first serving of Frumenty this evening or will this evening’s transgression warrant hiding behind the artwork for the remainder of this, the last feast of the holiday?” Hal had frozen at realizing he was discovered, but relaxed as the voice went on “I shall be very offended if my lord were to refuse my cooking when you yourself have told me there is no better cook in England”. A huge grin split his face and the baiting in the corridor concluded with a teasingly singsonged “I’ve more than just mulled wine…”

Hal took Gwen’s hand and led her out from behind the tapestry with much more decorum than he had tugged her behind it, holding the edge open as she passed through it and was confronted with a round cheeked grinning woman in the garb of a cook. Her smile faded for a beat when Gwen emerged but the shadow passed as she turned her attention back to Hal and glowed with delight.

He released Gwen’s hand and joyfully spread his arms wide to hug the jolly woman “Agnes!” There was an aura of longstanding familiarity between them as they greeted each other and Agnes blushed under Hal’s teasing complements and the fond kiss he placed on her cheek. He turned back to Gwen “I’d introduce you, but if I know Agnes she already knows everything there is to know about you”.

Agnes pretended to ignore Hal while she made a playful swat at him and addressed Gwen with a maternal air “Come into the kitchen Mistress Gwenllian” confirming Hal’s words.

She followed them into the kitchen, a huge room bustling with workers for the feast. Though the brunt of the cooking seemed to be over and the work was winding down, it was obvious the cook had left important duties in order to welcome Hal. Servants were quickly arranging an informal table near the massive hearth for them. The room was warm and welcoming, trimmed with holly and the soft echo of carols drifted in.

They settled in to this relaxed atmosphere and it banished the awkwardness of their previous conversation. They laughed with several servants Hal had known since childhood and some that Gwen had developed a comradery with since she had arrived. Hal watched with interest as he noted their easy interaction with her, and the way they seemed to revel in her genuine affection, though she seemed self-consciously oblivious to the air of adoration they returned.

The mulled wine and warm room had brought a flush to her cheeks and brought out her sassy spirit. Hal was taking great pleasure in teasing her and prompting her cleaver comebacks.  At some point too much wine and frivolity had prompted a bawdy jest from one of the servants and the festive mood came to a screeching halt as all eyes turned to Gwen and the Prince. Anticipation of rebuke ensured as they all remembered their places and fretted over how far they had strayed into jolly familiarity. 

Before Hal could handle the situation Gwen cleared her throat gravely and joined in by straight facedly quipping “She offered her honor, he honored her offer, and all night he was honor and offer“.

There was another quiet pause of surprise at the lady’s own bawdy jest, followed by raucous laughter all around, Hal threw back his head and laughed until he was nearly breathless with it. The awkwardness was forgotten, and they continued their merrymaking in the simple honest warmth of the kitchen.

When the hour was late and most of the merrymakers had remorsefully gone off to bed in anticipation of an early morning, Hal and Gwen still sat talking before a dwindling fire. Too much wine had them staring wistfully at each other throughout their softly spoken conversation, admiring the stunningly accentuated highlights and shadows that only firelight can paint on the canvas of a cherished face.

The dying fire made good on its threat to extinguish the last of the light in the room, the last flame flickered out of existence and finally forced them to stir from its hearth. Hal rose, offering her his hand “Shall I walk you to your room, my lady?”

Gwen accepted his hand gracefully, but smirked at the implication. She let him lead the way back towards the great hall, both of them walking with the meandering steps of those reluctant to part. “I hear there is a hunt tomorrow morning, my lord. Will you take part?”

Hal glanced down at his feet as reality intruded again on his blissful evening “Unfortunately no, my father and I leave for court tomorrow morning, he has plans for war in the holy land and is anxious to return to them”.

Gwen stopped walking unexpectedly, an expression of concern creasing her brow.

Hal stepped closer, wanting to smooth away her frown with a touch and take her worries away with it. His dread over the impending repeat of separation stayed his hand but then something above her head caught his eye. He smiled mischievously at the prophetic sight before lowering his voice irresistibly “It seems we’re standing under the mistletoe…”

Gwen’s eyes flew to the ball of green tear-shaped leaves and white berries tied above her and she grinned impishly, flashing her dimples as her bright eyes returned to his “You’re also standing on my foot”.

Her response was so unexpected it took him a moment to react. Then his eyes flew down to verify his transgression and he colored brightly as he removed his foot with great haste.

She laughed, the pleasant sound ringing gently though the empty hall, and went on before he could stammer out an apology “Besides, I’ve already kissed the Prince of Wales… sounds scandalous doesn’t it?”

His relieved exhale became a laugh and he joined in her teasing “Well, it was hardly a proper kiss…”

She lifted an eyebrow at his challenge and slid her hands up the front of his jacket, griping a handful of the leather and tugging him to her before she slid her hands up to loop her arms around his neck, pulling him into her embrace as she pulled his lips down to hers. It was a decidedly unchaste gesture, and though he’d goaded her, he hadn’t anticipated  _this_.

Mindful of her reputation he tried to hold himself back, but she toyed with him, her lips gently pressing and pulling at his until he accepted her invitation and gave himself over to it.

When the chaste modesty of a first kiss fled she deepened it until he wanted to devour her. His hands pulled her close, searching for more and she ran her fingers through his hair, tugging at his golden curls in a similar pursuit.

When hands were roaming freely and they couldn’t continue without moving into more carnal territory she broke the kiss and allowed them to catch their breath. Hal had barely regained the ability to speak, still running his hands down her back, as he broodingly growled in her ear “My lady, that was the most  _unladylike_  kiss I have ever experienced”.

Gwen grinned as she slipped from his embrace and reminded him again, this time with smug satisfaction “I’m not a lady”.

She vanished into the shadows and he could just make out the soft pad of her slippers on the stone as she traversed the darkness to her room. He found himself desperately wishing he could follow as the sound faded, and her light went with it.


End file.
